We All Have Our Obligations
by Myradream
Summary: A story of the relationship that develops between Margaret (Schroeder, Thompson) nee Rowan and everyones favorite gambling addict, Arnold Rothstein. What happens when he finds himself embracing a charitable and philanthropic side of himself? Surely there are ulterior motives, or maybe he simply enjoys her company for her solid work ethic? Time will tell. M for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Margaret gazed around her new apartment. It was spacious, and well decorated and furnished. Far more then she had expected, and it was hers for the next five years, without having to pay a shiny penny. She'd made an agreement with the man standing before her, and when she considered the other sins she'd fallen into, time and time again, her questionable business practices were low on the list of crimes against her soul.

"I've added you to my milkman's delivery list. Milk's good for growing children."

He added to the list of helpful information about the neighborhood, and small niceties he had done for her. Giving her a smile, before letting his attention rest on Teddy and Emily as they played with the dollhouse, one of many presents of toys that had been set up in the living room upon their arrival, many more in each of their separate bedrooms. Margaret smiled, following his gaze, before murmuring in response, her accent coloring her words.

"Thank you, Mr. Rothstein. This was all.. too much. " She gazed around the apartment that had been lavishly furnished. The items chosen were elegant, and clearly of high quality. The sort of things she could never have afforded on her own. She couldn't help feeling like she was once indebted to a man. Would that never end?

He chuckled a little, and shook his head, moving to guide her into the dining room, leaving the children to their toys.

" You may call me Arthur, Margaret. Surely we're intimate enough for that?"

She blushed fiercely, quickly lowering her eyes, but not before letting them rest on the hand that still encircled her forearm. He followed her gaze and stepped back, raising both hands in an act of surrender.

"Perhaps I was wrong, Miss Rohan? Or is it Mrs. Thompson? You have a habit of changing names. I'm afraid it leaves me at a disadvantage."

His lopsided grin was met with a flash of fury. He was teasing her. Her blush deepened and she murmured. "You should send me the bill for the furniture. I'll be happy to begin payments."

He shook his head, waving the idea away. "That will not be necessary, Margaret." He moved easily to her new cupboards, finding the correct one with his first attempt, and taking down two champagne flutes. Murmuring as he set them down, reaching above the sink into the depths of a deep cupboard for a bottle of champagne. She raised a brow as she noted there were many more bottles behind those. Not the easiest commodity to come by, champagne, but Rothstein had the proper connections.

"I know it's still the afternoon, but the children are occupied, and we have much to celebrate."

She jumped a little as he popped the cork on the bottle, and expertly guided the bubbly liquid into the dainty fluted cups, and handed her one. Taking the other and raising it.

"What shall we toast too, then, Arnold?" She questioned, tilting her hand, holding the glass. Surprised by the quickened beat of her heart. There was something similar to her former love, Nucky. Perhaps it was the power, the knowledge that the world moved when he wanted it too, or the danger that being in close proximity to such a man brought.

He smiled, pausing. Taking a moment to gaze at her, before responding simply. "To new friendships. And to you, Margaret. Your children, and your new home. " She smiled, adding lightly. "And to you, Arnold." Clinking her glass with his, the familiarity of his name on her tongue a little strange to hear ears, as she took a tentative sip of the champagne. Blinking at the way the bubbles tingled up the roof of her mouth and to her nose. Wrinkling it in response.

He smiled, sipping his champagne and watching her, as he leaned casually against the counter in her new kitchen, the newest of appliances surrounding him. After a few moments, of silence between them. Only the faint fighting of the children over why the Doll family wouldn't want to allow the Pirates entry into the living room for tea. His grin widened as he listened to them fight, before moving toward the dining room table, gesturing for her to take a seat.

She did so, watching him. Waiting for the other shoe to fall. Surely nothing was as simple as a key in the door, and a glass of champagne and farewell. He sat in the chair just to her left, setting his glass down, and taking a moment before going right to the meat of it.

" I dismissed my secretary. It turns out she had been helping herself to a salary above and beyond the one we agreed upon. " He smiled wryly. "I am in need of a new secretary to replace her, one I feel I can trust. One who has much to gain by my generous wages. You have five years here, but don't you want to save for a house for you and the children when all of this is said and done? "

She considered the offer, frowning a little before beginning with "The children-"

He interrupted, his hand moving tracing over the top of his champagne flute idly.

"Are going to attend the finest schools of your Faith. I took the liberty of enrolling Emily in the Convent of the Sacred Heart School. They have other students with her affliction. I know she is doing very well, and thriving, but this will allow her continue seeing a Doctor that is on staff, and begin her education in an environment where she will have other girls with the same struggles to look too."

And she blinked away the familiar prickle of tears that threatened her eyes. Managing faintly. "Mr. Rothstein, you shouldn't have gone to the trouble. This is not necessary."

"I beg to disagree, Mrs. Rohan. As I was saying, I have toured both schools myself and feel as confident as I can in a school ran by Catholics. " His lips twisted in amusement, as his eyes danced, giving her a moment to raze him for it, but she let him continue. " I have enrolled Theodore at the Holy Name School.

Her head spun. He had gone to a great deal of trouble for her and after a moment she nodded, murmuring her thanks for the kindnesses he had shown her. Sipping her wine, lost in thought for a moment before putting to words her curiosity.

"Arnold, what would have happened if I had said no?"

He considered her question, finishing his champagne, and rising to set the empty glass in the sink. "You wouldn't have said no, Margaret. Your main concern is always that of your children, and threw great effort, and no small amount of discomfort on my part, I have ensured them an education. You would have enjoyed the way the Nuns relaxed when I informed them that I was enrolling good Catholic children." He chuckled a little darkly, before moving to grab his hat from the umbrella stand near the door where he had perched it.

"You have a busy afternoon, Margaret. I've selected a few domestics for you to interview. They should begin arriving any time. You will want to choose two, so that there is no worry about the children arriving at their schools on time. You will not always be able to see them off, with your new career. " He smiled, giving a tilt of his hat, as she rose to see him out the door.

"I'll have my man pick you up for work on Monday morning. You should find something appropriate to wear in the closet. Should you need anything else, there is a telephone. You have my number. I will not be home tonight, the wife and I have plans. " He smirked a little as he opened the door.

"We all have our obligations. Enjoy your new home, Margaret." And he made his way out onto the second floor landing of the apartment building before hurrying his way down the hall, and the steps that led to his waiting car.

She closed and locked the door behind him, and hurried to the window in the living room that faced the main street. Watching him disappear into the back of the car, and standing at the window long after he was out of sight. Teddy's voice interrupted her thoughts.

"I like Uncle Arnold!"

Emily seconded the sentiment. "He gives good presents, Mama! I like my dolls."

She nodded a little, and moved to sit between them on the floor, gazing at the dollhouse, and the furnishings that looked similar to those that filled the apartment. She took a closer look at the dolls, and froze. The two smaller dolls, a boy and a girl bore striking resemblances to her children, and she would have thought nothing of it, if she didn't notice that the Mother doll looked strikingly like herself, even wearing a similar evening dress as she had worn to one of Nucky's celebrations. Her attention turned to the Father doll, around his throat a bow-tie, and a well tailored light suit that she was certain she had seen before. The knock on the door, interrupted her thought process, and she rose to great the first of many applicants, all vying for the job of cleaning her new toilet, cooking her meals and seeing her children off to school.

She steadied herself, rising to open the door. She smiled, as she let the dark haired Italian immigrant into her new home, closing the door behind her, and vaguely wondering how she always seemed to find herself in the eye of the storm, safe from it's dangers, waiting, to see what damage it would cause, or if maybe, this time, she would be spared.


	2. Chapter 2

The weekend had passed quickly. The addition to staff once again in her household was strange. Mrs. Giovanni, the dark haired older woman she had hired as her main nanny to attend the children, and a quiet blonde girl just off the boat from Sweden by the name of Dagmar who would see to picking Teddy up from school every day, while Mrs. Giovanni was busy with Emily's needs.

Sunday had brought a new surprise. A maid that Mr. Rothstein had handpicked, who would also do the cooking as needed. This woman was in her mid thirties, and had spent her life as a domestic servant. Her prematurely greying hair and wrinkled face, and beady eyes proved it, though she had yet to give Margaret any cause for distrust, it was there all the same.

" Marie, have you seen Teddy's shoes?" She asked hurrying into the kitchen. Monday had come far too quickly, and she could tell be a glance to the clock that all three of them were running late. She had to get to Rothstein's office and soon. The black car with his assistant had been parked outside waiting for nearly fifteen minutes.

"Yes, Ma'am. I put them away in his closet last night. I'll go and get them." She made her past Margaret in the living room and up the stairs, not quickly enough, given how late they were running. Margaret did her best to suppress the annoyance rising in her toward the newest addition to her household. She had not signed on for all of this, and yet, here it was. She sighed, moving to put her jacket on over the well tailored suit of grey and purple stripes she had found in her closet.

All of the clothing she had tried on fit like a glove, and she had found herself wearing more of the items that had been provided, then those few dresses she had salvaged from her marriage with Nucky, or her time working as a secretary for a far lesser man then Rothstein. She had sent a note immediately following her conversation with her new employer, to mark the ending of her previous contract. She had apologized for the lack of notice, and had mentioned unforeseen circumstances and unavoidable responsibilities. With a heavy heart she bent to kiss Emily on the forehead and then Teddy.

"I'm sorry to not be there for your first day at your new schools but I have to get to work. Uncle Arnold is expecting me." Any complaints they might have had were silenced by the name of their generous benefactor. They had both been extremely excited by the array of toys provided to them in this new house, and there weren't any screaming, whining cousins to contend with. Only each other and they had a lot of experience with that, and had yet to break even one of their new shiny presents.

Kisses, hugs and reminders of being on their best behavior given she hurried out the door, grateful to see Teddy was reunited with his shoes as she was closing the door. Readjusting her purse on the corner of her arm she hurried across the street and climbed into the back seat of the black vehicle waiting for her. Holding the top of her stylish wide brimmed back hat as she bent to get into the luxurious vehicle. She recognized it as the one Arnold had arrived in the previous week. Murmuring. "My apologies, it was hectic getting the children ready for school."

Met by only silence, the driver pulled out onto the road and drove mutely toward the center of the city where Arnold kept his office. Watching the buildings pass by as they drove, traffic eventually congesting the roads and bringing them to a near standstill. The driver, an older man with broad shoulders and a grim countenance finally turned his attention to Margaret. " Our employer values his time and does not appreciate being forced to wait. You will not put us both in a position to be reprimanded or punished again."

Bristling at his words she shook her head a little, her accent thickening with irritation. "I told you, I was getting my children ready for their first day of schoo-"

He cut her off. "You have staff for that. Mr. Rothstein will be very disappointed. "

Gritting her teeth she went silent, and the rest of the drive was spent with an uncomfortable quiet. Both of them a hairs breadth from snapping at each other. Finally he pulled up to the impressive building where Arnold worked.

He got out and walked around to her side of the car. Opening the door for her and stepping aside. Muttering. "Floor seven. Office 101."

She nodded curtly at the needed information and hurried out of the car. Her heels clicking on the asphalt of the road and then the sidewalk as she made her way to the front of the large building. Stepping inside and blinking at the grand entrance of the office building. The ground an ornate green marble. The clicking of her heels changing to a more echoing sound in the hallway. Taking a moment to get her bearings before crossing to the lift and climbing inside. Nodding to the elevator attendant and murmuring. "Seven/"

Her stomach lurched as the lift climbed and then stopped with a jerk when it arrived on the floor she had chosen. She gave the attendant a nod as he unlatched the metal cage between her and the door and both opened. She stepped out onto the seventh floor and found office 101 just to the left of the lift. Making her way inside and pausing in the office for a moment when she saw another woman behind the front desk. A pretty little redhead who smiled and rose when she saw her. Murmuring. "Margaret Rohan?"

Margaret nodded, confused by the presence of another secretary. The redhead rose and moved to greet her. Shaking her hand firmly. "I'm Mr. Rothstein's assistant, my name is Trudy." Margaret nodded a little. "He's been expecting you. Follow me." Starting down the long hallway behind the front desk. Following and gazing at the paintings on the walls as they made their way down the hall.

As if he had expected them, the door at the end of the hallway opened, and there stood Mr. Rothstein, a red bowtie around his neck. A grey suit impeccably tailored covering him, and an annoyed expression to finish the look. Margaret lowered her eyes, having no doubt she was the cause of his displeasure.

"Thank you, Trudy. Miss Rohan, this way." He muttered, and turned, walking back into his office. Margaret gave a little nod toward Trudy, and followed Arnold into his office. Taking in the mahogany furnishings and expansive bookcases. Some paintings she didn't doubt were done by the Master's, she didn't know which ones of course, but their were some familiar strokes that she had seen in museums when she had taken the children or at Nucky's house.

"Close the door." His voice crisp. She followed his instruction, closing the door and leaning against it. Slowly raising her eyes to his. Mumbling quietly. "I'm sorry I'm late, Mr. Rothstein. I was helping get the children ready for school, and we couldn't find Teddy's shoes.. I didn't mean to be late."

Sighing, he turned his attention to her. Managing evenly, though with difficulty. "I was under the impression that you hired two nannies, and a maid. I would think three women paid to make certain the children are attended too could accomplish such a thing without your assistance."

Blushing, Margaret nodded a little, clearing her throat. Murmuring. "I would like to speak to you about that. The housekeeper you sent… I really don't think that is necess-"

He cut her off, and her lips tightened. Eyes narrowing a little. She wasn't accustomed to being interrupted and she didn't appreciate it. " Clearly, Margaret, if your combined efforts to find Teddy's shoes caused you to be late you do require a housekeeper. Perhaps several."

Eyes flashing she crossed toward him. "Mr. Rothstein, that is ridiculous! I do not need your spies living in my house!"

Silence was her response and she froze. Knowing by the grim expression and the little twitch of his eye that she had gone too far. Quickly adding. "I'm sorry… It won't happen again."

After a moment he gave a little nod. "See that it doesn't, Margaret. This could be a very advantageous opportunity for you. I would hate to see you squander it."

He crossed to one of the desks, the main, larger one in the center of the room. In the left corner she noticed a smaller desk with a typewriter, and a stack of letters. He gave a nod in it's direction and murmured. "That is where you will be working. I need you to send my apologies to the stack of letters on the right. I have signed several checks. You will address them for graduations and birthdays, and any owed bills. Anything over forty dollars, check with me first. On the left, I require you to send rsvps. You will find some of your work is of a business nature, and much of it a personal nature." Studying her, his gaze moving up and down her frame, not remotely discreetly.

" I'm quite certain that relationship will continue, and mayhems flourish. Only time will tell, hmm?"

Staring at him, gobsmacked by the implications in his gaze and word choice, she turned and crossed to the desk, beginning to get to work on the correspondence. Doing her work without incident through most of the day. Rising to get him a glass of milk when his thirst required it, answering phone calls that Trudy had transferred into his office, and screening when required. Pausing when she got to the last letter on the "Yes"'s. An invitation to a party held by none other then Nucky Thompson. A Republican fundraiser. Turning her attention back to Rothstein and murmuring. " You wanted me to send a yes from you to.. to Mr. Thompson?" Her voice cracking a little.

Arnold's smile lit up his face as he rose to his feet. Crossing behind her and looking at the invitation. His hand moving to run lightly down her arm. "Yes. Of course. And I think you will join me."

Her hand beginning to shake, the invitation she was holding moving like a leaf with a strong wind as she murmured. "I cannot do that, Mr. Rothstein, you'll have to find someone else."

He laughed a little and shook his head. "Heavens, no. My wife will be on a trip to visit family in London for a holiday. We'll have a marvelous time. Mr. Thompson always gives the best parties. Surely you remember."

Bowing her head and blinking back tears she set the invitation back down on her desk. Turning to peer up to him. "Please."

His hand moved unbidden to her cheek, pressing it there for a moment and murmuring. "We'll travel to Atlantic City together. If you can convince me at the Hotel we will be staying at that there's something better we could be doing with our time… well, I'm sure Nucky would understand."

Reeling, her hands trembling she moved to put in a fresh piece of his stationary, complete with his letterhead in neat print "Arnold Rothstein". And with shaking fingertips she plunked out his response that he would be attending with a guest. Murmuring quietly. "You could cause a war this way."

His smile widened as he moved to sign his name with his fountain pen after tugging the paper from the typewriter. "I'm counting on it."


	3. Chapter 3

(( This will deviate a little from real history, and Boardwalk canon. I intend to piece it all together at the end. Hope you will go on the journey with me and allow some suspension of disbelief for the necessary changes to tell this tale. ))

The work week came and went. Margaret found herself frequently uncomfortable in Rothstein's presence. While typing up correspondence for him, she frequently would catch him staring at her. She made certain to wear the more conservative clothing in the well furnished closet, and even pulled her hair back and wore less cosmetics then she was used to, but his fascination with her only seemed to grow.

Friday arrived, and all of the plans had been set for the party in Atlantic City the following evening. She would be leaving with Arnold on the train directly following the workday. She'd arranged for separate hotel rooms for them, him in the executive suite naturally, and her in a standard room. The Ritz-Carlton was lovely and she had little doubt their rooms would be adequate. Occasionally her still legal Husband did work and stayed on the 8th floor. She'd arranged to be on the fourth, and for Arnold stay in the executive suite on the 5th. Hopeful that the arrangement would keep her at arms length or further from two powerful man who both had a claim on her.

This morning she had kissed the children goodbye, and told them she would see them when she returned Sunday evening, giving strict instructions to her staff about bedtimes being enforced, homework being done immediately upon return home, and not to allow too any sweets, especially for Teddy who became a nightmare when allowed too much sugar before bed. She trusted the nannies more as the days went by, and her housekeeper less. No alternative in sight she continued adjusting to her new schedule, home and life.

At five on the dot, Arnold folded his newspaper and rose from the leather upholstered chair at his desk. Stretching, his back cracking in several places. He turned to gaze at his secretary. " It's time, Margaret. Let's go on Holiday."

Grimacing, she glanced up to him. Sighing, but not loudly, she smoothed the black skirt of the high cut, calf length silk dress she had chosen. A garment better suited for a funeral then a vacation, but given the nuances of the situation she felt it was appropriate. She rose to her feet, arranging her desk neatly. Pleased with the order of it, she made her way to the door, opening it and mentioning. "My suitcase is packed and in the trunk of your drivers' car."

Nodding, a smile brightening his features. "Good. I have something more comfortable for you to wear tonight." Crossing to the coat closet in the corner of the room, he opened the door to it, disappearing within for a moment and returning, one hand on the top of a wooden store hanger, his other stroking it's way down a dazzling beaded gown of emerald silk. The jet beads cascading their way down the front.

Margaret froze. Moved to silence as she gazed at the dress that was extravagant beyond anything she had worn before, even with Nucky's bank account. She had always been relatively modest, in dress if nothing else. The low décolletage of the gown caused her immediate discomfort. And she swallowed, opening her mouth and closing it a couple of times. False starts, before finally she reclaimed her voice. " Mr. Rothstein, I'm not sure that is the best choice for -"

He cut her off swiftly. Crossing the room and shoving the dress into her hands. " Put it on. We have a dinner arranged on the train, and you will be wearing this dress."

She took it mutely, the embers of her protests still burning inside, but realizing the futility of fighting him on this with the current dangerous glint in his eyes she yielded. " I will wear the dress, but I am unhappy with this arrangement. " Her Irish accent deepening with her frustrations.

Smiling, Arnold reached to rest his hand on her shoulder. Giving it a reassuring squeeze. "This is merely a bit of theatre, Margaret. You've always struck me as a remarkable actress. Play your part well, and there will be accolades for your performance."

Her brow furrowed and she shook her head a little. " I do not understand what game you are playing. If you want me to join, you ought to tell me the rules." Her voice steadfast as she watched him.

Chuckling, he leaned in to kiss her forehead. She seethed inwardly from the condescension in both the motion and his explanation. " It is safer for you." He intoned, his words spoke slowly, as if she might otherwise not understand them. "I will tell you what you need to do. Perhaps even allow you to make some choices. I'm a gambler, Margaret. It's interesting to see how the cards unfold, don't you think? Now put on the dress."

He crossed to the door, and paused to glance at her. "If you're not on the other side of this door in five minutes time, I will return to assist you. Unless you'd like help now?" He asked, tilting his head and watching her.

Shaking her head emphatically she pointed, exclaiming. "I do not need your help!"

Grinning in response, he raised his hands in defeat, and opened the door. Closing it behind him and leaving her alone to marvel at what the hell was going on, and what part she was to play in it. Struggling with the buttons of her dress, being given such a short period of time to change, she managed out of her black dress. Sighing at the low cut of the dress, and removing her brassiere too. It would show with the way the dress was designed.

Managing after a few failed attempts to secure herself in the dress. The buttons and hooks had been difficult, and she'd had a time arranging herself within the gown without her usual supportive underthings. No mirror in the room to gauge her appearance, she made her way out to the lobby for confirmation that it would do.

Arnold's eyes lit up and his smile widened. Taking a moment to study her, before nodding. Lifting his hand, the index finger pointed heavenward and beginning to swirl into a circle. She took his indication and gave a slow spin in the dress so he could see all angles. Her own expression grim, though. Feeling as if she was about to be auctioned, and her overseer was figuring out how much he could get for her in advance. Stopping after making a complete circle and sighing. "Well?"

Grinning, he moved to offer her his arm. When she took it he finally relented with a response. "You are a vision. Certain to be the talk of the dinner we are attending. And we will encounter old friends. It should be a very interesting weekend, Margaret."

Dread filled her belly and she was grateful for his arm. Without it, she might have lost her balance. The sense of foreboding was strong enough to turn her stomach. He helped her into the elevator and she was silent as the lift lowered them back to street level, and as she climbed into the waiting car. Mute as Arnold gave instructions that offered no clarity on the coming evening, to the driver. Only Arnold's preferred route to the train station.

The city sped by them, as the sun began to lower in the sky. The driver pulled up outside the train station and circle the car to allow her out first. Draping her in a mink coat after she had stepped out onto the sidewalk. She blinked at the excellent craftsmanship of the piece, and allowed herself a moment to nestle into the comfort of it. Before frowning, and realizing the price she was probably going to have to pay here was far more dear then that of a jacket.

Arnold joined her not long after, and she took his offered arm. The many faces of New Yorker's and visitors to the great city blurring together as they made their way to the boarding area for their train. Only the best for Arnold, they were of course allowed to board early, their luggage brought to their room by a steward.

Following Arnold through the long myriad of trains that led to their compartment, Margaret was dazzled by the interior furnishings. This was no pullman car of the past, but the finest in travel. She followed Arnold into what she expected to be a small sitting area and was surprised by the spaciousness of where they would be spending the time to Atlantic City. The first room was a proper sitting area with a sofa and a couple of chairs. An artfully decorated room with a bookshelf, and a full bar. Arnold stepped inside, and immediately opened the door to the interlocking room. Around the same size as the sitting area, but clearly a bedroom. A large bed taking up the majority of the room, with only one small wardrobe in the corner, and another door presumably leading to a water closet.

Margaret stared at the bed, her eyes wide, taking a step back toward the door that led to the connecting hallways. Arnold chuckled and murmured. "I'm going to take a little time to myself. I like to be well rested. Make sure I am awake by quarter to seven. " And he sat on the edge of the bed, removing his shoes, and curling up for his cat nap.

Closing the door to the bedroom, she let him rest. Watching the clock over the doorframe that led into the small bedroom. Listening to the announcements, and feeling the train begin to move, and the way the vibrations came up through the floor. Watching grand central disappear from the little curtained window above the sofa. Her time spent alternating between the window and the clock. At exactly 6:45 she knocked firmly on the door to the bedroom. "Mr. Rothstein. You told me to tell you when it was time."

A grumbled response of "Mmallright." Heard from the other side of the door, followed by the sounds of him getting up, putting on his shoes, and then him going to the bathroom attached to the small bedroom. She blushed being able to hear some of the sounds, and paced her way around the chairs and the sofa. Watching the minutes tick away.

Joining her finally at five minutes to seven, having changed into a tuxedo from their luggage that had been set inside the bedroom, he was looking quite dashing. He moved to hand her his cuff links, offering first one wrist and then the other for her to put them in place. Murmuring. "This will be an uncomfortable dinner for you. Business, mainly, but I need you to behave as if everything I am saying is fact at supper. Much depends upon this, and it would be very dangerous if you were to deviate from what I say. Do you understand?"

Shaking her head a little, and frowning. "Not a bit, Mr. Rothstein. I don't understand what's going on at all! You have purposely kept me in the dark about every aspect of this trip." Her voice shaking a little, eyes narrowing in irritation. "You have me wearing this dress, but why?! To what end? We won't even be in Atlantic City until tomorrow! Whatever game you're playing with my Husband I want no part in it!" Stamping a foot in her frustration. Her face turning more and more red with anger and irritation.

Beginning to chuckle, he ran a hand down her bare arm. The fur jacket draped now over the sofa. She tensed and peered up to him angrily. "Hush," he cautioned. " We are in far too deep to give up now. You are my mistress. "

" I most certainly am not!" She raged at him, a hand moving to push him away from her. His own wrapped around it, holding firm, his voice calming.

"I know that, Margaret. And it's a damn shame. I imagine you're a minx in the bedroom. But as I have stated, you will be performing a show. You're lines are that we are involved. That much is true, anyhow. Our lives are inexplicably linked, are they not?"

She grimaced, glaring up at him. Waiting for more explanations, her face nearly as red as a cherry from the rage rising inside of her.

" Come now, don't be sore with me. We've made arrangements. I'm willing to make more, if you're successful tonight and tomorrow. " He studied her closely, adding. "I hear Emily likes her new teacher very much. And she's making many friends. Wasn't Teddy chosen for the rugby team? Isn't he learning Latin? "

Sighing and giving one small nod, Margaret lowered her eyes to the ground. Some of the fight going out of her. His fingers were on her chin, and he lifted it, so she would return her gaze to his. " Think of your children. Of the future you could provide them with my help. We are good partners, Margaret. You're smart. Fierce. I enjoy that, about you. But you're not a fool either. Surely you can see the benefits?"

Watching him, she sighed. It was true. There were benefits left and right, but dangers too. Asking quietly. "Do they outweigh the risks, I wonder?"

Giving a small shrug, he took her hand and led her to the door. The clock having just struck seven. "We have dinner to attend too, now. Remember what I have said, and your role for the night."

Sighing, Margaret gave a nod. There was no harm done in strangers seeing them eating together. It wouldn't do her any harm to flirt with him. She had certainly done worse then that over the years. Her own sins compounded, no amount of donated money or land to any church capable of truly assuaging her of the weight of those choices.

He smiled, squeezing her hand, and led her out of their room and through the hallways to the dining car. She noticed to her relief that several of the women all ready seated for dinner were in similar extravagant gowns, and that she wasn't completely overdressed for the affair.

She followed behind Arnold and the waiter that led them to the corner of the dinning hall. All too soon she recognized the profile of the man seated at their table, his back to them. Her heart began to race, and she gripped onto Arnold's hand, her hold like a vice. Eyes wide, and staring up to him in horror.

Her Husband seemed to sense some unrest from behind them, and he turned, his gaze locking on the two of them. The confusion and hurt mixed together into a grotesque expression that seized the chords of her heart. He rose to his feet, eyes wide as he studied his absent wife on the arm of one of his rivals.

Arnold smiled widely, moving to guide Margaret to sit directly across from Nucky. The waiter pulled out her chair and she sat down, keeping her eyes on the table. All of the color draining from her face. She wasn't prepared for this. She should have been. All of the signs were there, but she had hoped for one more night to prepare herself for this inevitable meeting.

The men shook hands, but the tension between them was heavy. Suffocating. As they both sat down, Arnold smiled thinly. "I would make introductions, of course, Nucky, but I believe we both know Margaret quite well. "

She tensed, as he wrapped a possessive arm around her. Beginning to tremble, ever so slightly. Closing her eyes and doing her best to get control of herself and return to her usual breathing pattern.

Nucky murmured darkly. " There have been many times I thought I know her, Arnold. But tonight is not one of them."

She took a shaky breath and finally opened her eyes. Looking at him, face to face for the first time in many years There had been times she had considered turning to him for money, but her pride would not allow it. Yet somehow she had taken the money and aid from the man sitting beside her, his arm cavalierly draped over her shoulder as if she were his property.

Feeling as if the walls were closing in, she managed after several attempts to say, eventually. "Good evening, Enoch. I hope you are well?"

Staring at her, he just sat. Taking it all in. Margaret glanced between the men, Nucky's shellshocked expression, and Arnold's all-knowing smile. She was grateful for the interruption of the waiter who came by to offer them their specials. She did not flinch when Arnold ordered the lobster for her. It would not have been her choice, but she was too busy caught in the sights of the man she had once loved, and had betrayed. And was betraying again, though not in the way it appeared.

Her heart hammering in her chest she reached across the table for Nucky's hand. Arnold's quickly intercepted it, and he gave it a sharp squeeze. Biting her tongue to prevent herself from making a noise, she forced herself to her feet, getting her hand away, but with difficulty, as they both rose when she did, as was custom. She took a deep breath. Murmuring. "If you'll excuse me. The motion of the train is making me a little unwell. I will return soon. "

She nearly ran her way out of the dining car and back to the room. Grateful when the steward opened the door for her. She hurried past the sitting room, and the bedroom with it's rumpled sheets, and to the small lavatory. Vomiting, unable to hear that at the table, Arnold had blamed her nausea on her pregnancy.

It was going to be an interesting weekend.


End file.
